


No Apologies

by viciouswishes



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-01-01
Updated: 2006-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-11 16:59:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/114607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viciouswishes/pseuds/viciouswishes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dawn happens to be the resident Sumerian expert at the Council's Roman branch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Apologies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chantal87](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=chantal87).



Dawn lost her virginity the moment her feet hit foreign soil. She and Andrew were sitting in the pub across the street from Giles' temporary office when she met Greg. Tall, handsome, with a melty accent - she'd always had a thing for older men and she'd finally found one that wasn't her sister's boyfriend, her sister's best friend, or her sister's other boyfriend.

When she told Andrew about the first time she visited Greg's flat, he compared it to _Pretty Woman_ without the hookers. She told Greg that she'd had sex before and he took her virginity in his bed of satin sheets. It didn't hurt, but she's a Summers woman.

She pouted when Buffy announced that they were moving to Rome. They yelled and slammed doors, but in the end, Dawn packed her bags and followed Buffy to the continent. For the first month, Greg called her and had her touch herself. But the calls slowly stopped and she bought her first vibrator the second month she lived in Rome.

Now every morning, Guido the barrista tries to pick her up as she waits for her morning coffee. He has floppy hair and a cheeky grin. Buffy attempts Italian to help Dawn's pursuit of love, and they end up kicked out of their favorite cafe.

So when Dawn bumps into him, she doesn't expect it. She doesn't expect him as the horrid home-brewed coffee spills down her red shirt. But she expects an apology, one which she doesn't think he'll ever give her. He's not the man she remembers.

"Jerk," she says. She stomps a kitten heel and reaches for the box of Kleenex on the nearest desk.

He doesn't even look at her, just to the wooden door of Ms. Felicity Prior, head of the Rome branch of the Watchers Council. "Perhaps you should watch where you're going. I didn't realize Watchers had become this incompetent under Giles' leadership." He stares at her with those piercing blue eyes.

"Wesley? Ex-Watcher, who my sister so got his ass fired, Wesley?" Dawn's glad that her coffee's on her shirt, not in her mouth. Otherwise, a spray of coffee might've landed on Wesley's pressed blue shirt. And while his shirt was pressed, the rest of him wasn't.

"Dawn," he says as he crosses his arms across his chest. Clearly, he's remembering the time that she super-glued one of his ancient books to the library table. He clears his throat. "You've grown up. And I believe it was Faith who got my ass fired."

Dawn nods. "She always did go in for the kill." She feels him staring at the little flakes of eroded Kleenex that dot her shirt and she wonders if she's shaved her legs recently enough to be wearing a skirt. "So what is it you want?" Trying to sound exhaustive or maybe frustrated, she sighs in a way she thinks Giles might if he were standing here instead of her. Of course, Giles wouldn't even have to worry about shaving his legs.

"I need to see Ms. Prior." Wesley looks over to the doors again. "If she's not in, perhaps you can take a note."

"Do I look like a secretary? Senora Ricci is on her lunch break." Dawn walks over to her desk, plopping down in her chair and turns on her computer. She makes a gesture to her name plate which signifies her as a Junior Watcher. "But you're welcome to take a seat." Dawn tosses her hair over her shoulder.

Wesley grumbles and sits in front of Dawn's desk. She almost waits for him to throw his feet up on it, while she waits for her computer to boot. "So," she says, "I thought you were dead. Why I ever think that anyone I know who dies would stay dead is beyond me." _Except my mom_, she adds silently.

Senora Ricci's arrival interrupts them and, she informs Wesley that Ms. Prior is out for the week on retreat, but is there anything she or Dawn could help him with?

Wesley looks pissed as Dawn obviously knew Ms. Prior's whereabouts the entire time. "Rome isn't England or America, Wesley," Dawn says. "We do things our own way."

"And since when have you become an Italian, Dawn?"

Dawn rolls her eyes. "C'mon. We have a big library, where I'm sure you can find plenty of books on whatever subject you were itching to talk with Ms. Prior about."

"Part of the reason I came to see Ms. Prior was that I needed another expert in Sumerian to help me go over a rather large project that as much as I'd like to do myself, we don't have time."

Dawn laughs, knowing that Wesley's going to be even more pissed when he finds out that Dawn is their resident expert when it comes to Sumerian. "Don't worry, Wesley, I've learned a few things since the last time you saw me."

"Summers della poca is an excellent scholar of Sumerian," Senora Ricci says. Busted.

"Please accompany me to the library, Dawn," Wesley practically growls. She doesn't remember him being quite this cranky.

The library is hidden deep in the bowels of the building with high-tech environmental controls so the ancient parchments aren't destroyed by changing seasons. Not that Rome has many seasons. Dawn always figures that if World War III ever comes, in a non-demonic form, that she's hiding here, tucked away with the books.

Here Wesley seems almost like she remembers him. His long fingers reach out to touch the books' spines and take care when turning the pages. Dawn always bends the pages, and Giles banned her from bringing liquid around them after she left rings from her cola bottles.

But Dawn's used to Buffy or Senora Ricci checking up on her every hour or so, and she's bored after looking in what seems to be fifty-thousand books to perfect a line from the translations. Wesley's done a thorough job; in fact, Dawn guesses that he might be the best translator she knows.

"So exactly why are we translating this, Wes?" Dawn asks.

Wesley's frown deepens from a thinking one to an annoyed one. "It involves a friend."

"Anything specific I should know of this friend? You know, clues or something. Obviously, this friend is special." Dawn switches the way her legs are crossed. She flexes an ankle. Her heels are smoking hot, but feet long to be stretched.

Wesley nods. "His fate has intertwined with the world's before." He turns a page, and Dawn realizes that he wasn't even looking up. Nope. His eyes were scanning her legs. Figures.

Not that Dawn minds the attention from an attractive man. Plus, Wesley has a brain, which is a nice change compared to the other guys she's dated. "Do you like them?"

"Like Sumerian words?" Wesley asks. Men are so clueless sometimes.

"No, Wesley. My legs. You've been staring at them for the past five minutes." Dawn sits a little straighter. Now she has Wesley's eyes.

Wesley hesitates before he answers. "If I've offended you that wasn't my intent. You're a very attractive young woman." He sounds like the Watcher she remembers, the one who doesn't make her think about kissing him.

Dawn snorts. "Would've said something more insulting if I was." She picks up another book and goes back to work. Wesley's probably gay or something.

"That's not the correct book." Wesley stands in front her and picks the book off her lap. His fingers brush over her hand.

Dawn shivers, still watching him. It's his move, his play. She freezes and doesn't know when it's turned into his game.

Wesley sets the book on the floor. He's not going to drop anything that old. His finger now ran over her jaw line and over her bottom lip. Hesitantly, her tongue gives a gentle lick to it. "That's good," he said. "For a start."

Dawn's visibly trembling by the time Wesley's other hand is on her knee and moving up. He's not. Oh, yes, he is, pushing past her thong and touching her pussy. She lets out a squeak and Wesley stops. He looks up at her, almost amused.

Wesley closes his eyes as she sucks his finger in her mouth. Her tongue swirls around the short, smooth nail, and his hand starts moving against her. He sinks down to his knees.

Lifting up her leg, Dawn moans a little as Wesley kisses the inside of her knee. He tugs off her thong with a knowing precision. His kisses move higher, and he yanks his finger from her mouth.

Wesley places her legs over his shoulders. Her skirt is shoved far under her ass. His thumb presses against her clit until his mouth moves high enough to replace it. Dawn's body tenses when his mouth touches her cunt.

Dawn slightly bucks her hips against his rough stubble, seeking more friction. A warm flush starts in her cheeks and travels down her stomach to her thighs at his every lick. She whimpers, biting her lip until it bleeds not to scream.

Wesley lifts his head up. "I expect more noise than that, Dawn." He chastises her like a school girl, and she almost sees him back in the Sunnydale library with his hair plastered to his forehead. Only his face was never gleaming with- Oh, god.

Hanging onto his arm, Dawn allows herself to pull to her feet. Her knees are a little wobbly, but he uses it to his advantage as he pushes her down on the table. Books fall off the sides of it.

Wesley makes a clucking sound. "This won't do." His hand's on his belt buckle undoing it. "Yes. Please place your hands on the desk, Dawn."

Dawn's knees quakes, melting at his voice. Who knew she had some sort of discipline fetish, and suddenly, she's oh-so-thankful that none of her teachers were sexy. When she touches the hard, cold wood of the table, she realizes that she hasn't even felt him with her hands.

But Wesley's cock presses against her ass. He's incredibly hard and already rubbing against her. "Don't worry, I'm not going to fuck you without a rubber."

The tension in Dawn's back sinks a little. Of course, a former Watcher would be overly prepared. She's been to Watcher school after all, even if it wasn't the one that made people like Wesley. Her fingers dig into the wood when his hand comes around, fingering her clit.

Wesley thrusts into her roughly. His other hand presses on her hip, squeezing and steadying with it. He growls in her ear. At least, Dawn thinks he's growling, but she barely hears anything but her own heavy breathing and begging.

"Don't stop," Dawn repeats over and over a mantra of lust and need. She's so goddamn close. Her body's warm everywhere.

He nips at her ear, sucking around her fake diamond earring. The table's quaking under them. Wesley tells her how tight her cunt is and how he could fuck her all night. She comes at his words.

Dawn shudders against him as Wesley pulls her hair. He slams in and out of her, and she wishes that they were laying down. She bites her lip as he grunts and loses his balance, pushing her into the table and pinching her leg against it. Dawn nudges him back with her hips.

"Will you be focusing better on your translation, Dawn?" Wesley says as he slips from her.

Dawn snorts and turns around. "I wasn't the one having concentration problems, Wesley. God, you're an ass." She thinks about grabbing one of the thick books and using it to knock him out. Maybe then he'd forget about having sex with her. Of course, his pants are still undone and the used condom's still on so currently there's not a chance of that.

"And you enjoyed yourself." Wesley smugly smiles at her, while shedding the condom and fixing his clothing.

Dawn crosses her arms and falls back on the chair she was sitting on before. "So." When she reaches down to pick up a book from the floor, her hand brushes her legs and she's glad that she forgot to shave today.


End file.
